


When You Look Into The Abyss

by schneestern



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-10-10
Updated: 2007-10-10
Packaged: 2018-11-14 23:11:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,120
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11218191
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/schneestern/pseuds/schneestern
Summary: An AU-ish take on the scene between Meg and Dean fromDevil's Trap, if Sam and Bobby hadn't been there.This is borderline non-con, but I chose the archive warning just to be safe.





	When You Look Into The Abyss

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this after I rewatched Devil's Trap with my beloved [](http://unamaga.livejournal.com/profile)[unamaga](http://unamaga.livejournal.com/) a while back. The way Dean seemed to be off the charts, making even Sam and Bobby flinch, just because he wanted to get to his Dad is pretty much what inspired my take on Dean here.

Dean slams her into the wall hard, making her teeth click together sharply. His face is a cold, angry grimace and his whole body is tense and ready to move in the blink of an eye. She's unfazed, smiles at him, big and fake, darkness swirling in her eyes. It's the only hint that she's not quite from this world, that there's something else inside of her.

"Where is he?" Dean growls, shoving his arm under her chin, pressing against her throat until she can barely breathe.

"Dead," she croaks, smile still firmly in place.

She licks her lips at him, slowly spreading her legs apart until he can't help but slide in between them, pressing against her. Meg's body is warm, too warm for someone who's dead and cold inside. Dean can feel her moist heat against his thigh, tries to ignore the fact that he's hard, cock straining against the zipper of his jeans.

"Where is he?" he presses out through gritted teeth, face so close that he's sharing the air she's desperately trying to suck in.

"Dead," she says and this time it's a little faint but it bites into Dean just as hard, white-hot rage obliterating every other thought from his mind.

He loosens his hold on her throat a little only to rip apart her thin top with the other hand. It neatly slides down her body, necklace settling between her breasts, leaving her in only the red jacket and a matching bra.

He presses into her hard then, moves his lips to her ear and feels faintly triumphant at the sound the air makes as he's forcing it out of her. This is not a sweet little girl anymore. This is just a black demon in disguise and Dean Winchester doesn't care much for demons.

"I said," he growls into her ear, low and throaty, lust sneaking unbidden into his voice, "Where is my father?" And almost of its own volition his hand moves up her body, cupping her breast, squeezing it so hard he's sure he's leaving bruises. She hisses, tries to recoil, but the wall and Dean's body hold her in place, so she does the only other thing she can, she moves against Dean.

The friction comes sudden and unbidden, Meg's leg moving up against Dean's hard cock and he doesn't want this, needs to stop her, so he bangs her head against the wall, once, and immediately she drops her knee away.

It doesn't feel as satisfying as it should.

“You wanna have it this way, Dean?” she playfully asks, voice laced with grogginess from the slam against the wall. The way her tongue curls around his name is like a cold hand tightly gripping his heart and Dean wants to shut her up, beat her unconscious but she won't be able to tell him where his father is then.

He presses his mouth against hers, effectively cutting off her next sentence. Immediately, she moves against him again, knee firmly rubbing against his crotch once more, hands fisting in his jacket like she waited for this.

Her tongue is warm and soft against his, expertly slipping inside his mouth, licking over his teeth. Dean loses himself a little in the kiss, wet lips pressing together, but then there's a dark, bitter taste in his mouth and he knows this is the demon. Just for a moment longer he keeps kissing Meg, distant curiosity over what the demon will do urging him on.

And then Meg moans into his mouth, a sound so wrong and filthy it has Dean snapping back and he has to dig his nails into the palm of his hand to keep from wiping at his mouth in disgust.

“You tell me where he is right the fuck now or I'll swear I'll shove a knife into your leg,” he growls.

Instead of answering, Meg's hands move from where they are fisted into his jacket down to her pants and in a quick motion she opens them and shoves them down around her ankles, along with her red lace panties. She spreads her legs, the folds of her pussy parting with a wet-slick sound.

“Fuck me and I'll tell you,” she says, a sly smile twitching at the corners of her lips. Dean can see the demon looking out through her hollow eyes, daring him to do it to get the information he needs.

What the demon doesn't know is that Dean never backs down from a challenge.

He looks at Meg, open and waiting, wondering if he shouldn't just kill her and look for Dad on his own. But her red lips are swollen where she bit on them, her breasts are almost slipping out of her bra and as the demon impassively looks back at him Dean only wants to fuck her to make her feel how disgusting and rotten she is.

He bulls the knife out from the back of his jeans pocket and snaps it open. Meg's breath hitches at that and he sees the glint in her eyes, sharp little burst of dark black, that quickly fades away again. He runs the sharp tip of the knife down between her breasts, drawing a thin line of red blood from the hollow of her throat down to just above her belly button, cutting apart the fabric that holds her bra together.

“You just wanna play and let your daddy's body decay somewhere? Or are you actually gonna do something, Dean?” It's all demon now, that voice, unearthly and sharply ringing in his ears and Dean flinches despite himself.

The knife drops to the floor with a loud clatter and Dean's already pulling at his belt before it stops spinning.

As he shoves his jeans down he watches Meg step out of hers, wantonly leaning back against the dirty wall, like this is something casual she does every day.

Dean's on her in the blink of an eye, pushing and shoving at her, until he just lifts her up, her legs going around his back.

“That's it, Dean, fuck me real good,” she whispers in his ear, low, throaty laugh following it, making the hairs on the nape of Dean's neck stand up. The smell of her leather jacket and the evil inside of her nearly choke him but there's no going back now, so he slams into her in one long thrust, burying himself to the hilt.

She groans, nails dragging along his back, digging into his jacket. He feels pain, although it should be impossible that she hurt him through all the layers of clothing. Warm wetness slides down his spine and he knows it's blood.

Without giving her any more time to adjust he starts driving into her. Deep thrusts that shove her back against the wall and when she hisses it's pain and not lust, and that, more than anything, makes Dean even harder, the knowledge that he can still get to her, with brute force at least.

She's clenching tight and hot around his cock and a small part of him actually enjoys this, the violence and the intense need that overpowers everything. But he's not stupid, he knows the demon is draining energy out of him. It's subtle, but he can feel it everywhere he touches her and he needs to take this chance or Dad will probably die.

“Alright,” he pants, biting at her neck, her jaw, her breast. “Where is my father, you fucking demonic bitch?” and he slams into her, punctuating every word with a sharp twist of his hips, making her keen loudly, hands helplessly clawing at his back, drawing more blood.

“Not yet, Dean, I'll tell you after we finish this.” But her voice is broken and Dean knows he has her. She's on edge, human pleasure clouding the demon's senses and Dean can almost make out its irritation in the way Meg's shoulders tense under his teeth.

He keeps holding her up with one hand under her ass and slips the other between their bodies, rubbing his thumb against her clit so hard she screams, piercing sound making him turn his head away. Searing pain explodes all over his back where her fingers dig into the muscle and then she's clenching around him, impossibly tight, and comes, wet heat pooling where their bodies are joined together.

He strains to keep it together, waits for her orgasm to really hit her, then he slips out of her, carelessly letting her slide to the floor. She whimpers, slumped together on the ground and he tugs himself back into his pants, hard cock scraping along denim painfully, but he doesn't want to come this way, it's a weakness he can't allow himself right now.

He grabs the knife from the floor and moves in, pressing it to her throat.

“Tell me, where he is. Now!”

Meg looks at him, hazy lust mixing with bottomless darkness. “You're still hard, Dean. Want me to take care of that for you?” And her voice is dreamy, coiling around him like a snake ready to strike.

“Where is my father, Meg?” he demands, voice as sharp as the tip of the knife almost breaking her skin.

“You didn't ask very nice,” she coos, smile slipping into place again, distorting her soft features into an ugly grimace.

“Where's my father, _bitch_?” he grinds out and when her smile widens he pulls his hand back and slaps her across the face. An angry red bruise rises almost immediately on her cheek and her eyes flash at him like he hit a switch inside her that sets the demon free.

“You tell me now, bitch, or...” and Dean takes a deep breath and starts saying the familiar words, almost without any hesitation. “Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus, omnis satanica potestas,” Her eyes go big then and she shudders, whole body shaking with it, head twisting at an impossible angle.

“Where is he, Meg?” Dean interrupts himself, because he can't go on much longer. He doesn't know the whole thing by heart but he keeps talking, trying to show confidence with every word he says. The fact that the knife is heavy in his hand and close against her throat helps with that. “Omnis incursio infernalis adversarii, omnis legio, omnis congregatio, et secta diabolica.”

At the last word he watches as Meg tips her head back, the blade of the knife drawing blood. She opens her mouth, looking Dean straight in the eye and he knows this is it, defeat shining at him through black pupils. She's gonna give it up and Dean will save his father, bring his family back together.

From one second to the next Meg's whole body arches up and then dark black smoke is rushing out of her open mouth and into the room and Dean screams, agony coating every word. He yells, curses and pleas mixing with the demon in the air, frustration scratching the inside of his throat raw.

He watches helplessly as the demon disappears through cracks in the ceiling, falls to his knees in blind defeat, tight grip around the handle of the now useless knife.

He only remembers the half naked woman in front of him when a low moan drifts through the air. He snaps his eyes open, not even sure when he actually closed them, and looks at Meg. Her eyes are closed, dark blood dripping from her open mouth, red jacket hanging over her naked breasts with even more blood pooling on her smooth stomach.

Dean moves over to her, new hope rushing through him and he spreads her out on the floor, trying his best not to shake her and yell. Instead he begs her, pleads her to tell him where his father is.

Her eyes finally open half way and they're fully human again but Dean doesn't notice, just says in a low, urgent voice, that he hopes will make her talk, “Where are they keeping my Dad?” words thick with desperation.

Meg clutches his arm and murmurs, “By the r-river.” Her mouth barely opens around the words now. “Sunrise,” she adds after a pause and when Dean keeps asking questions she only stares at him, eyes wide open now, life slowly slipping out of them.

When her hand drops from his arm, Dean finally realizes that she's dead.

He reaches out to close her eyes and then drapes his jacket over her naked body. His hand lingers for a moment longer on the already cooling skin of her shoulder and he distantly notes a bruise he left there.

Then he gets up and goes to find Sam, already thinking of ways on how to save their father.


End file.
